


Your Fingertips Across my Skin

by Superfast_Jellybitch



Series: The one where Gabriel pines [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Genderfluid Character, Loss of Virginity, Making Love, Other, Porn with Feelings, Vaginal Sex, Wing Kink, Wingfic, a few of em actually, canon typical genital fuckery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-07-26 02:31:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20036434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superfast_Jellybitch/pseuds/Superfast_Jellybitch
Summary: Eons of pining has to come to a head at some point, surely.(nsfw companion piece to "As the Iceberg Loves the Ship".)





	1. Chapter 1

Dinner had been lovely. At least, Aziraphale had said it was lovely, and he _was_ the expert on the subject, so it must've been so. Truthfully, Gabriel didn't care about the food or the drink or the atmosphere of the restaurant or any of those silly little things Aziraphale fussed over, so long as he got to be at his Principality's side. There truly was nothing in the universe that filled him with warmth and happiness like hanging on Aziraphale's arm and knowing that he was _wanted_ there. He'd smiled contentedly the whole walk back to the bookshop, leaning into Aziraphale, kissing him on the top of his head, fidgeting with Aziraphale's pinky ring, and most importantly, watching his Principality preen under the attention. It was almost like how things were before the war. He wants more. No sooner has Aziraphale shut the bookshop door than he's cupping his face, kissing him passionately. Aziraphale's hands came to rest on his wrists as he ran his fingers through his downy soft curls. When he pulled away, Aziraphale smiled a lovestruck smile up at him, thumbs rubbing at the soft flesh on the inside of Gabriel's wrists.

"Heavens, Gabriel. What have I done to earn a kiss like _that?_" He asked breathlessly.

"Nothing. Everything. i'm just trying to make up for lost time." Gabriel muttered, leaning back in for a softer, gentler kiss.

He'd never get tired of the feeling of Aziraphale's lips against his, soft and pliant. The Humans really were onto something with these displays of physical affection. Of course, there were forms of affection exclusive to beings of a divine or profane nature. Gabriel thinks back to fingers running through feathers, picking out broken ones, straightening the ruffled ones, and he feels his own wings twitch at the memory. Suddenly, he wants nothing more than his hands in Aziraphale's wings again, just like old times. He doesn't think he's felt them since their time in Jerusalem. Gabriel pulls at Aziraphale's coat, desperately trying to remove it.

"Aziraphale...please...I need-"

"What, darling? What can I do for you?"

"Your wings. Can I-"

"Oh yes! _Please_, by all means"

Aziraphale shrugs out of his jacket, fingers fumbling with his bowtie while Gabriel struggled with the buttons of his waistcoat. Why did he wear so many layers? Usually Gabriel was appreciative of the stylish if old fashioned way Aziraphale dressed, but when he was trying to get him _un_dressed? It was a burden. Finally, _finally_ he got the last buttons of Aziraphale's shirt undone, discarding it on the floor. Kissing him again, Gabriel walks him back to the loveseat, sitting him down on it. His hands are shaking with excitement as his Principality turns his back to him, unfurling blinding white wings with a roll of his shoulders. They're even more beautiful than he remembers, snow white and ever so soft. Gabriel reaches out, running his fingers through the feathers just to feel them again. Aziraphale lets out a pleased sigh, relaxing into his touch. Oh this was the very thing he needed. Through a bit of Archangel magic, he produces a bottle of preening oil, pouring it over his hands and setting to work. Aziraphale's wings are in far worse shape than they used to be, though Gabriel can't remember the last time he'd had his groomed either. They quiver at his back in anticipation, and he has to consciously will them to stay on their separate plane of existence while he smooths out his Principality's delicate feathers, massaging the oil through them, gently plucking out the ones that were bent or broken.

"I forgot how good you are at this." Aziraphale chuckled lightly, leaning forward to rest his head on the arm of the loveseat and stretching his wings so that Gabriel could get a better angle.

Gabriel keeps stroking his fingers through Aziraphale's feathers long after he's finished, not wanting the moment to end. Aziraphale didn't seem to mind, stretching out underneath him. He takes the time to really look at Aziraphale's shirtless form for the first time. The small smattering of freckles across his shoulders, the love handles that spilled over the waist of his trousers, the streaks of gold that might've been stretchmarks on a human, but Gabriel recognized as angelic markings. Gabriel found his hands wandering, caressing baby soft skin, pushing into tense muscles, feeling every divot, every patch of hair. It was nigh on reverent. Aziraphale's wings fluttered happily.

"This is all very lovely dear, but I do believe it's your turn now." Aziraphale said, sitting up.

Gabriel blinks in surprise. He hadn't thought Aziraphale might return the favor. He'd been content with just grooming his Principality's feathers until they were in perfect condition once more, but when Aziraphale offered, he felt a bright pink blush rise in his cheeks. Aziraphale was already loosening his tie, peeling away his jacket, undoing the buttons of his shirt until Gabriel was completely shirtless. Aziraphale looked him over, bottom lip between his teeth, something Gabriel didn't recognize in his blue-green eyes. Gabriel trades places with him, leaning over the arm of the loveseat and unfurling his wings. They're not white like Aziraphale's. They're a deep grey, with a bluish purple iridescence at close to his shoulder. He's certain they must be a mess, and he feels his blush darken with his shame. But then, Aziraphale's fingers are combing through his feathers and suddenly he can't think. He lets out a groan, relaxing into the touch. It felt good. Better than he'd remembered. He found himself stretching out his wings almost immediately, eyes sliding shut.

"Is that nice, darling?" Aziraphale asked, planting a kiss right between his shoulder blades.

"Yeah..." Gabriel moaned as his Principality's fingers found a particularly sensitive spot.

Aziraphale kissed across a smattering of gold 'freckles' on his neck and shoulders, hands still straightening and plucking feathers. It was nice. Very nice. Gabriel felt warm in a way he hadn't before. Like every place Aziraphale touched him lit a spark under his skin. His fingers massaged through his feathers again and Gabriel couldn't help the sound that came from him. Aziraphale stilled, leaning over him, pressing against his back to whisper in his ear.

"I say, are you enjoying this?" He rasped. It sent shivers down Gabriel's spine.

"Yes." He whined.

Gabriel felt Aziraphale's hands stroke down his sides, caressing him gently. He pressed fervent, hungry kisses along his neck and shoulders, nipping sharply every now and again, making that warm feeling spread through his abdomen. Gabriel hadn't felt anything like this before. He didn't know what Aziraphale was doing to him, but he didn't want it to ever stop. Aziraphale moved to stroke down his chest, nails digging into his pecs, dragging down his front. It hurts, and yet underneath the pain, pleasure blossoms from the light pink scratch marks. Hands are back in his feathers before he can finish processing what just happened, and the sensation is enough to make his head swim. He moaned into the upholstery of the couch, burying his face against his arm.

"Do you want more?" the question is whispered against the junction of his wing and shoulder, and Gabriel stifles another moan at the feeling.

"There's more?"

"Oh _yes_, darling. There is so much more than just this." 

Aziraphale punctuates that statement by rolling his hips against him, grinding his newly-made...effort... against his rear. Slowly, things click into place. Aziraphale was _propositioning_ him. Silly, dottering, innocent Aziraphale was actually trying to _seduce_ him! And it was _working_. Or at least, Gabriel was pretty sure it was. He didn't exactly have much experience with copulation, as he was an angel and was not built for such things. Besides, what need had they to copulate? It wasn't as though they could reproduce. And that _was_ what the Almighty had intended the purpose of copulation to be. He twists his body to look at Aziraphale, brow quirked in confusion.

"You mean like...intercourse?" he asks.

"Well er... yes, that was rather the idea. Unless you don't want to, of course."

"No, I just- Why? What purpose would it serve?"

"Well um. No purpose, really, I suppose. It just feels nice is all. And it's quite intimate. And I do so enjoy being intimate with you."

Gabriel nods, contemplating his words. It _had_ felt nice, so far, and the humans have been doing it for eons, so there must be some kind of appeal there. But he was completely out of his league, with no clue how to even begin.

"Okay. But you have to help me out here, I really don't know what to do."

"Oh, of course darling." Aziraphale says with a grin, flipping him over so that he's fully on his back and settling between his open legs. "Oh dear. You _are_ going to need genitals for this."

"Right! What uh.. what kind?"

"Doesn't matter, really. Whatever you're most comfortable with, dear."

Gabriel nods again. Closes his eyes. Licks his lips. Thinks back to the hard length pressed against his rear, now pressed against the currently formless crotch of his pants, and feels himself grow even warmer. He makes a decision, makes the effort, and feels that warmth spread even lower. Feels the seam of his trousers ride up between his folds, pressing firmly into the bundle of nerves at the front of his sex, dampening the material with his growing arousal. It did feel nice. Quite nice, actually. He tilts his hips upwards, grinding against Aziraphale, the friction making him clench every muscle south of his navel in pleasure. Above him, Aziraphale moans, his head hung low. For a moment, Gabriel's worried he might've hurt him, but then the Principality grips him by the hips and grinding harder against him, pushing the material of his trousers further up, tightening the pressure on his clit. Gabriel cries out, wings jerking outward in pleasure, and he hears Aziraphale chuckle darkly. It sends a thrill through him that he doesn't quite understand.

"Ready then, are we?"

"Yeah." Gabriel gasps, though he's not even sure what the question means.

Aziraphale undoes the clasp of his trousers and slides them down his thighs, a clear, sticky string of fluid stretching from his slit to the material. His Principality dips a finger down, catching it on the pad of his finger and sucking it into his mouth in an obscene display that makes Gabriel's cheeks redden even further. He closes his eyes, the expression of bliss on his face so very similar to the one he makes when enjoying a particularly delicious meal. When his eyes open, they meet Gabriel's with such a burning hunger that the Archangel almost shudders. Whatever Aziraphale had in store for him he was _certainly_ ready for now. Aziraphale leans forward, kissing his neck, his chest, down his stomach, and he pauses right above his pubic bone, smiling wickedly.

"How kind of you to bring me dessert, Gabriel." He whispers huskily, pressing another soft kiss against him.

He doesn't quite know what Aziraphale is referring to, until the angel dips his head lower and flattens his tongue against him, licking across his whole sex. Gabriel jerks in surprise, hips bucking into Aziraphale's face involuntarily. The Principality places a hand on his hip, forcing him back into the loveseat, not letting up in the least. It's intense. One of the most intense physical sensations he's ever felt. Gabriel throws his head back, thighs shaking, hand finding its way into white-blonde curls and tugging gently. Aziraphale moans around him, sending a shiver through his whole body. Rather suddenly, he feels achingly empty, clenching around nothing, desperate for just a little bit more stimulation.

"Aziraphale, _more_..." He pleads, hips rolling despite his best efforts to keep them still.

Gently, Aziraphale's tongue moves lower, slipping over his folds, teasing at his entrance. Gabriel whines. It's good, but still not enough. He's growing frustrated with the teasing, but there's truthfully very little he can do about it, other than tighten his hold in Aziraphale's hair and complain louder.

"_Inside_, please....." Gabriel whines

Mercifully, Aziraphale slid a finger into him, curling it expertly. Gabriel saw stars. He was wet enough that he had begun to leave a spot on Aziraphale's loveseat, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Couldn't think with the way Aziraphale was moving in him, stroking him in rhythm with the quick, deliberate movements of his tongue on his clit. It was so _much_. Too much. Before he can register what's happening to him, his muscles are clenching hard, and he's soaking the upholstery and Aziraphale's chin. Gabriel cries out, wings fully outstretched behind him as he's brought to his first, earth-shattering orgasm. When Aziraphale pulls back, he pauses only a moment to wipe his chin before kissing him again. He can taste himself on Aziraphale's tongue and it's positively intoxicated. He feels heavy and tired and pleasantly warm, like he's basking in sunlight. Aziraphale began kissing down his neck again, sucking marks into the sensitive flesh.

"How was that, darling?" He purred, fingers finding their way back to his feathers.

"It was really _really_ good. What _was_ that?"

"Well, that was an orgasm. It's er.. what motivates the humans to engage in intercourse, I suppose."

"I uh. I'm starting get the appeal."

"Are you ready for more, love?"

"There's _more_?" He asks breathlessly, eyes wide in anticipation.

"Only if you want it."

"Oh _please_."

"Alright then, love. Turn over. I want to caress your wings."

Gabriel obliges, kicking his trousers the rest of the way off and splaying himself over the arm of the loveseat, stretching his wings in a way he hoped was seductive. He's rewarded with a sharp slap to the rear, making him yelp. He goes to shoot Aziraphale a dirty look and perhaps treat him to some choice words, but he's stopped dead by the sight of Aziraphale shimmying out of his trousers, his cock bobbing as he did so. Gabriel swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He knew the mechanics of this, in theory, but Aziraphale looked so big and Gabriel felt so small, he wondered how they would even fit together. Aziraphale, now fully undressed, seemed to take notice of the apprehension in his face. He reached forward, stroking his cheek lovingly.

"It's alright if you don't want to do this, Gabriel." He insists softly, thumb rubbing against his jawline.

"I do. Fuck me."

"Oh heavens..." Aziraphale mumbles, visibly affected by the request.

He lines them up, the head of his cock slotting snugly against his entrance. Gabriel feels that twinge of nervousness once more, but then Aziraphale is pushing in. It's tortuously slow, but the stretch is delicious. He's so damn thick. It hurts. Stings in the most wonderful way as he slides in inch by inch. They both let out a pleasured sigh as Aziraphale bottoms out. As promised, one of his hands slides up to Gabriel's wing, playing in his primaries. Gabriel feels himself tighten in response, groaning at the feeling. And then, his Principality _moves_. He thrusts forward, driving himself even deeper, and Gabriel cries out louder, feeling the muscles of his legs quiver at the sensation. He feels so damn _full_ he thinks he might come again just like this. He arches his back, pressing back into Aziraphale insistently. Getting the message, Aziraphale pulls out almost completely before slamming back in full-force, hips coming against Gabriel's with a satisfying smack. The Archangel positively howls in pleasure nails digging into the loveseat, arching his back. Aziraphale's hand in his wing had gone from caressing to pulling, careful not to tear out any feathers, but hard enough to get the leverage needed to fuck him even harder.

"Yes, that's it love. You're doing so well." Aziraphale coos into his ear, the tenderness of his words contrasting the harshness of his thrusts.

Gabriel couldn't respond but to moan louder, completely lost in the feeling of Aziraphale fucking him. The hand in his wings hurt, the thrusts were just a touch too rough, but for some reason that only made it feel better. Aziraphale whispered praises into his ear all the while, sometimes coherent, sometimes just babbling a stream of love, telling him how well he was taking it, telling him how beautiful he was. Before he knows it, he's teetering on the edge again. As if he could sense it, the hand Aziraphale had kept upon his hip reached around to rub frantic circles against his clit, his thrusts growing erratic. Gabriel comes undone beneath him, legs shaking, fluid splashing onto Aziraphale and the couch, running down his thighs, wings stretched to their full length. With a cry, Aziraphale follows, spilling into him and adding to the wet, sticky mess between his legs. He's pressing gentle, near apologetic kisses to his shoulder blades, smoothing his feathers where he'd mussed them, caressing his hip.

"How was that, darling?"

"You.. You really undersold it." Gabriel slurs tiredly, mustering up enough brainpower to miracle himself clean. The couch could wait.

"I'm so very glad you enjoyed yourself." Aziraphale sighs, laying his head down on his chest and tracing patterns in his chest hair.

"I love you, you know." He whispers against his soft curls, taking in his scent. He smells of sweat, and sex, and geraniums, and honeysuckle, and old books. He could get addicted to that smell.

"I know you do, Gabriel." His principality smiles. "I love you too, my darling."

"Well I'd hope so. You're stuck with me."

"Oh I am?"

"Yep."

"How positively lovely."

He's half asleep by the time he's struck with a question. He almost ignores it, but it turns from a nag to a need. Gabriel cracks an eye open, looking down at the angel curled up on his chest, smiling blissfully. He runs his fingertips over his shoulder, savoring the way Aziraphale shudders. Blue green eyes meet violet and Gabriel is positively lovestruck.

"'Ziraphale?"

"Yes?"

"Did you ever think it'd be like this? You and me, I mean."

"I had always rather hoped it would."

"I love you."

"You're repeating yourself, darling."

"You want me to stop?"

"Oh _heavens_ no. Don't ever stop."

Gabriel cups his face, kissing his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his forehead, every part of him he can reach until finally catching him by the mouth. It's a soft, chaste kiss. The exact kind you'd expect two angels to share. The love between them rolls off in waves, finally unabashed, unhidden, allowed to blossom into full bloom. It's a comfort to him. Soothing. Like being rocked to sleep. He still can't believe this is real. Can't believe that after all this time, they're finally together. Like how he's always wanted and then some. Aziraphale has fallen quite asleep on him, snoring softly. Gabriel smiles down at him. Watches him, completely enchanted by his sleeping face, however unattractive it may be. He was beginning to think that this was even better than Heaven.


	2. Chapter 2

They'd kissed all the way up the stairs, Gabriel stumbling after her almost drunkenly, seemingly unable to keep the dopey smile from his face. It was absolutely contagious, and as she tugged him through her apartment door by his tie, Crowley couldn't help but chuckle a bit. She pins him to the wall as soon as they're inside, pressing herself flush against him, kissing across his jaw and moving to nibble at his earlobe. Gabriel hums contentedly, hands coming to rest on her hips. Crowley's always liked how big they are. How they make her seem tiny in their hold. Crowley might not have been a fan of the Archangel in the beginning, but with the late night television marathons and the deep conversations and the tender moments, Gabriel was beginning to grow on her. She pulls away, arms still around his neck, lip between her teeth, eyes raking over his form hungrily.

"You want a drink?" She asked huskily, straightening his tie out.

"Sure." Gabriel said, watching her hips as she sauntered into the kitchen.

Crowley pours them both a glass of wine, perhaps being just a little over-generous, and shoves one into Gabriel's hands. He won't drink it. He never does. Crowley wonders why she bothers wasting the good wine on him anymore, after all, she could pour him a glass of the world's nastiest cooking wine and he would be just as appreciative. Perhaps she's just being polite. Or more likely, it has something to do with the fact that she'll inevitably steal his wine glass at some point during the evening. She leans over the bar, well aware of how the position coupled with the height of her wedges makes her rear look. Gabriel might not know it yet, but this _is_ a seduction.

Had you asked her 6 months ago, Crowley would've told you that _all_ the archangel was good for was sex, not that she'd had any personal experience in that matter. He was loud, and over-eager, and mind-numbingly naive, and she would've been content to leave her analysis at that. But fate seemed to have other plans and almost unwillingly she'd learned that he could be kind, and vulnerable, and that he loved with his whole heart (poor fool), and gradually the idiot had wormed his way past her defenses and straight into her heart. Disgusting.

"So... now what?" Gabriel asked, setting his glass down on the bar in front of them.

"I was thinking you and I ought to become...better acquainted." Crowley purred, taking a sip from hers.

"Sure! What do you wanna know? I'm an open book."

Crowley blinks a moment in surprise. Okay, so that had been her fault. Big mistake assuming Gabriel would understand innuendo. But this might not be a total bust. After all, squeezing more information out of him would be delightful, even if it wasn't exactly what she'd been in pursuit of. Might as well start out strong.

"Do you remember anything before the Great War?" Crowley asked, looking into her wine glass rather than at Gabriel. She noticed him stiffen in his seat nonetheless.

"Well that was only in 1912. Of course I-"

"Oh don't play stupid, Gabriel. You know what I mean."

"I-...I'm not supposed to." He said quietly, slumping on the barstool.

"I didn't ask if you were _'supposed to'_."

"... Yes I do."

"Do you remember... me?"

"You can't ask two questions in a row." Gabriel said matter-of-factly. "It's my turn."

"_Fine_. Ask away, pretty boy."

"Do you love me?"

Not that. Why'd he have to ask _that_ of all things. It had taken her over 6,000 years to even say that to _Aziraphale_ who she'd adored since the beginning. How could she possibly begin to answer that now? Crowley gulped down the rest of her wine as though she were a college freshman. Gabriel looks on, just a hint of worry in his features.

"It's fine. Take your time." He said calmly, swirling his glass and watching the dark red liquid slosh inside.

"....You're just trying to get back at me for that 'Great War' question, aren't you?" She accused, pointing a finger at him.

"Maybe." Gabriel grinned maliciously. "Uncomfortable questions beget uncomfortable questions."

Crowley swings herself up onto the kitchen countertop, reaching across the bar to snatch Gabriel's wine glass from him and down its contents just as fast. It's a flirty sort of gesture, and she can see him blush just a bit even in the darkness of her apartment.

"I could do." She answered, tapping her nails on the rim of the glass. "Love you, that is. If you gave me reason to."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gabriel frowned, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Ah-ah." Crowley tutted. "It's my turn now, remember?"

"That wasn't an _answer_!"

"An answer you don't understand is still an answer, _Gabe_. Not my fault you're a dumbass." Crowley shrugged, kicking off the counter and swaggering over to his barstool. "Now, are you gonna screw me or not?"

"Oh!" Gabriel exclaimed, violet eyes widened in innocent surprise. It's an expression she can't help but smile at. Mischief quickly replaces confusion, his hands finding his way back to her hips, pulling her back against him. "I dunno. You're being pretty mean to me."

"I'm a demon." She said, wrapping her arms back around his neck, pulling him to her chest. "Get used to it."

"I'm an Archangel." He mumbled, pressing kisses to the neckline of her top. "I outrank you."

"You sure about that?" She whispered, digging her nails into his shoulder, leaning so that she's draped across him.

A hand finds its way into her auburn hair, carding through it gently at first before balling into a fist at the roots and jerking forcefully. Not too hard, just hard enough to bare her throat to him. To make her hiss. Gabriel's looking into her eyes with a sort of calmness that most certainly did not match the force of his hand in her hair.

"I think you should apologize to me."

Crowley debated being petulant. Say something that will make Gabriel tighten his grip in her hair until it hurts. But she decides against it at the last minute, instead forming her face into an expression of pure repentance. Obedient. Pitiful.

"I'm ssssssssorry, Gabriel." She hissed. "Lemme make it up to you?"

"Oh?" Gabriel loosened his grip in her hair, returning to stroking through it lovingly. He kisses down the column of her neck, nipping light enough that she wouldn't have marks. "And how are you gonna do that?" 

"Why don't you let me show you, hm?" She purred, grabbing him by the tie once again and leading him like a dog on a leash to the couch. "Here. Sit."

Gabriel obeys, letting her push him into the soft leather of the couch and straddle one of his thighs. Crowley kisses him roughly, tongue doing things no human would be capable of, biting his lip with teeth so sharp they pierce him without the Archangel even feeling it. The cloyingly sweet taste of angelic ichor fills her mouth and Crowley pulls away, wiping the brassy gold liquid from her lips, eyes lingering for a moment on where it's smeared across Gabriel's face, still trickling from the wound. He's still smiling at her, apparently either unaware or uncaring of the state of his bottom lip. Even still, she miracles the injury away with a swipe of her thumb, moving to kiss a trail from his jaw to the collar of his shirt. Her lipstick doesn't smear against him. It wouldn't dare be so unruly.

"You're gonna want a dick for this." Crowley prompts, deft fingers pulling the knot in his tie loose.

"Oh, okay."

In a matter of moments, there's a firm bulge pressed against her knee. It's bigger than she'd expected. Much bigger. Crowley is suddenly rather grateful for some aspects of her demonic nature as she palms him through his trousers, sliding off of his thigh and onto her knees. Slowly, teasingly, she undoes his fly, surprised yet again- this time by his lack of underwear. Gabriel never did seem to be exactly what she'd expected of him, from his mismatched socks to his deep seated self worth issues. Perhaps she is beginning to fall for him, Crowley thinks to herself as she wraps her hand around the base of his cock, licking a trail from where her hand rested all the way to the tip, swirling her tongue around the head and being rewarded with a choked moan. She takes him down expertly, serpent's tongue doing wicked, impossible things to him. Gabriel whimpers and groans above her, hips bucking involuntarily, a hand returning to the demon's russet curls, tugging just a little too hard. Crowley moans around him, letting him guide her, fuck her throat, take his pleasure from her. It's only fair, considering what she plans to do to him later. Besides, being manhandled gave her a thrill, and Aziraphale was always so hesitant. It was nice to have a real firm hand for once. Without warning, Gabriel tenses beneath her, cumming down her throat. Crowley is quite thankful for her lack of a gag reflex as she swallows around him, milking him expertly. Finally, after he's whining with overstimulation, she releases him, sitting back on her heels with a satisfied smile.

"How was that for an apology?" She says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"V...very effective." Gabriel gasped breathlessly, eyes closed and head thrown back against the couch cushions .

"Oh, don't tell me you're tired _already_." Crowley coos, crawling back up into his lap. "I'm not even _close_ to finished with you."

She takes his hand and places it on her inner thigh, urging it up her satin skirt. That was the benefit to skirts. Easy access. Gabriel takes the hint and slides a hand up the soft skin of her thighs, caressing her through the matching satin of her panties. Crowley _had_ planned this, after all, she wasn't going to skip out on the details. Besides, any excuse to wear the good panties was welcome. Gabriel's thumb presses on her clit and Crowley squirms, grinding into the sensation. The satin was starting to stick to her folds, her wetness seeping through the material. It was becoming uncomfortable fast. She whines, rolling her hips, trapping Gabriel's hand between his thigh and her sex. Oh yes, that was nice. She could ride herself to orgasm like this, and has half a mind to do so. The thought of soaking the leg of Gabriel's nicely pressed trousers with her juices is wildly tempting, but she had other plans. She wasn't going to let Gabriel leave here until she'd been stretched full and left aching. Continuing to hump his thigh like a rabbit, Crowley reaches lower to stroke Gabriel back to full attention. Thank someone for angelic refractory periods. Gabriel's free hand cups her face, bringing her into a slow, passionate kiss.

"Enough!" Crowley gasps, pulling away. She miracles her underwear away, not even having the patience to stand up and take it off the proper way.

Without any further preamble, Crowley straddles his lap, sinking down onto Gabriel's cock with a pleasured whimper. The Archangel's hands come to rest on her hips, covering them completely, and she rocks forward, drawing a moan from both of them. Crowley sets up a punishing pace, spearing herself onto his thick cock over and over again, her nails digging into Gabriel's shoulders, head bowed forward, lip caught between her teeth, stifling little moans and whimpers. Gabriel's grip on her hips is tight, but not controlling. He lets her guide him. Use him. Take from him. She doesn't know what she's done to deserve trust like this. Crowley's thrusts slow, becoming more languid, more deliberate, grinding him against the spot that made her thighs shake, chasing orgasm. Gabriel meets her thrust for thrust, kissing down her neck, across her collarbones, her cheeks, her shoulders, any bare skin he could reach. Crowley tenses, clenching around him as she cums, unable to hold back a gasp of pleasure. Gabriel's not too far behind her, spilling into her with a low groan, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. They still for a moment, Gabriel still inside her, his head buried against her chest, nuzzled between the small peaks of her breasts. Usually Crowley didn't bother with the addition of breast tissue- it was just cumbersome at best- but she'd felt that the now-wrinkled dress she was wearing looked odd without it, so she'd made just a little extra effort. The visual of Gabriel's angelic visage buried between them was just an added bonus She hums in contentment, scratching at his scalp with her fingernails.

"You want to come back to the bedroom?" Crowley offers, kissing the top of his head and miracling them both clean.

"Again?" Gabriel asks, lifting his head to look at her with surprise.

"Well, only if you want to of course."

"Yes. Always."

Crowley tries her best to ignore how very reverent that sounded as she gets shakily to her feet and pulls her skirt down, beckoning Gabriel to follow her. She's beginning to regret the decision to wear heels, and as soon as they get to the bedroom, she kicks them off. The room hasn't changed much since Gabriel left it last, but the sheets are fresh and the bed is recently made. Crowley turns her back to him, lifting her hair to allow him access to her zipper, even though it wasn't really long enough to be a hindrance.

"Unzip me." She demands of him, feeling a strong hand at the base of her spine and another tugging down her zipper almost immediately.

She steps out of the dress, standing utterly naked before him for the first time. Gabriel seems almost awestruck, eyes raking over her body as though she were the most lovely thing he's ever seen. It's almost enough to bring a blush to her face. Instead, she looks at his clothing and frowns. There is still much too much of it for her liking. Why did those damn angels have to wear so many layers? With a wave of her hand, the Archangel's clothing disappears from his body and reappears folded on a chair in the corner that had not existed before. Much better. Crowley puts her hands on his hips, dragging him back towards the bed with her, pushing him down into it, and crashing their lips together. It's a bruising, hungry kiss that reignites the spark of lust within her that had only just begun to calm down. She wants him so badly. Wants to have him every way he'll let her. Rakes her nails down his chest, lets her hands wander over chiseled hipbones and broad muscle, kisses and sucks and bites every inch of him she can reach, until he's thoroughly marked.

"...Can I fuck you?" Crowley half-asks, half-begs into his ear, voice husky with want.

"...How?" Gabriel asked looking at their genitals with confusion.

"Oh, you know. I have to change a bit, but I'd just lube you up and...slide in." Crowley explained in a less than suave manner

"....Yeah okay." Gabriel says, though Crowley gets the feeling that he still doesn't quite understand. Oh, he'll figure it out.

Crowley miracled a tube of lubricant into her hand, spreading Gabriel's legs wide. She teases his hole before slowly pushing a well lubricated finger in. Gabriel made a face, clearly unsure of the sensation. He's far too tense for this.

"Shhh relax Gabriel. It's never gonna feel good if you don't _relax_"

"O-okay. I'll try"

Gabriel most certainly tried, but every time Crowley moved in him, he tensed again. This wasn't gonna work if she couldn't get him to relax. In a last ditch attempt to save the evening, Crowley searched out his prostate. Gabriel gasped above her as her finger brushed it, finally relaxing around it. Crowley massaged the spot with skill, watching Gabriel bite his lip and moan. Before long, he was loose enough that Crowley could slide a second finger in. It was slow work, working Gabriel open, but goodness was it rewarding, getting to watch the Archangel writhe and moan on her fingers, thinking about what it's going to be like to have him on her cock. After he's adjusted to three of her fingers spreading him open, she withdraws them, smirking at the sound of disappointment that leaves his lips. Crowley equips herself with the necessary organ, not quite as large as Gabriel's, but then again, that was quite an impossible standard to live up to.

"Are you ready?" She asks, stroking herself firmly.

"Yeah." Gabriel nods, eyeing her cock with something between fear and excitement.

Permission given, Crowley lines up and slowly, gently, she slides in. Gabriel's breath hitches. He tenses, and then relaxes, tenses again, and relaxes, and it's taking every ounce of Crowley's self control not to thrust in with abandon. Finally, _finally_ she bottoms out. They both groaned at the sensation. The benefit to this position was that Crowley could see his face. Could watch every little expression that flitted across his face as she fucked into him, could kiss his lips, or bury her face against his neck and whisper little praises into his ear, like she was currently doing.

"That's it, Gabe. You're a natural."

Gabriel just moaned in response to every compliment she bestowed upon him. He was nice and tight around her, and while a part of her longed to fuck him hard and fast with teeth and claws the way a demon really ought to, but an even bigger part of her was enjoying this just how it was. Slow and deep, with Gabriel's well muscled legs wrapped around her sinewy waist. Crowley kisses across his neck, fucking him even deeper and listening to him gasp and cry out in pleasure, hands twisting in the sheets. She wasn't going to last long with the way Gabriel's velvet heat clenched around her, so she wanted to make the most of it. To make it good for him. Crowley angles her thrusts so that she drags across his prostate as she moves in him. Gabriel sputters beneath her, hips moving back into her with every thrust.

"Good. There's a good angel."

"_Crowley_...." He crooned, knuckles white where his hands gripped the sheets

"I'm right here love." She murmurs, taking his cock into her hand and stroking him in time with her thrusts.

"Oh! If you keep that up I-i'll-"

"Go on then."

Gabriel spills over her fingers, hips jerking, hole clenching, and it's one of the most beautiful things she's ever seen- those purple eyes crossing in pleasure as she wrought a third orgasm from him. She only lasts a few moments longer, her orgasm catching her almost by surprise as she spills into him. Crowley collapses on the bed beside him, finally satisfied. With a tired snap of her fingers, she cleans them before burrowing under the blankets and using Gabriel's chest as a pillow. Strong arms wrap around her shoulders, pulling her closer. He's delightfully warm, and the reptile in her longs to stretch out atop him like he was her own personal heating rock. For now, she settles for pressing her entire body against his. Her breathing slows, relaxed, and distantly she's aware of Gabriel miracling the lights out. Crowley knows that the Archangel has assumed she is asleep. Otherwise he'd have never said what he did.

"I do remember you, Cassiel."

It's whispered so tenderly against her forehead that Crowley almost cries, before remembering that she's supposed to be asleep. She hasn't heard her angelic name in so long, the sound is foreign to her. So he did remember, then. Remember before the Great War, when they were Archangels together. It wasn't as though they had been close, but still, it meant something to her that he _remembered_. That someone out there might've mourned her loss.

"And I love you. Well, not Cassiel-you, I suppose. But Crowley-you. I dunno. Maybe that's stupid."

"S'not." Crowley can't keep quiet anymore.

"Oh! I'm sorry I thought you were-"

"It's not stupid. That's fucking magnificent and I hate you for it."

"I don't understand?" Gabriel says, sounding distressed. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No." Crowley kisses him, soft and passionate. "No, you great idiot. You did it. You went and gave me reason to love you."

She could kiss him all night and be content, and at this rate, she just might. Crowley couldn't have possibly imagined that anyone who knew her before the fall- the perfect, holy, angelic version of her- would be anything but disgusted with what she'd become. But here Gabriel was- beautiful, perfect, angelic, stupid Gabriel- holding her in his arms and telling her that he loved Anthony J. Crowley just exactly the way she was. And she finally had to admit it. She was in love with him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all can pry She/her Crowley from my cold, dead hands.


	3. Chapter 3

Crowley hadn't thought to announce that he was coming over. He rarely gave Aziraphale warning anymore anyway, preferring to waltz into the bookshop and immediately drape himself over his angel, no matter how inconvenient. That was precisely what his goal had been on this occasion, but while the shop door had been open, he couldn't find Aziraphale anywhere amid the shelves and clutter. Memories of the last time he'd been unable to find Aziraphale in his shop came flooding back to him, and Crowley tried his best to suppress his panic as he mounted the staircase to the rarely-used flat above the shop, taking them two at a time. He's about to start peering into rooms, when he hears a loud moan from the back bedroom. One that certainly didn't come from Aziraphale. Worry and panic is instantly replaced with arousal as the sounds mount in frequency and volume, and Crowley saunters his way back to the master bedroom, a wild grin spreading across his face.

What greets him when he opens the door is a sight that a few months ago might've made him queasy, but as of right now was making his heart swell and his body heat up deliciously. Aziraphale had Gabriel sprawled out on the bed so that he faced the door almost as though they'd been expecting him, his toned legs spread as wide as they would go, his hands bound neatly above his head with his own lavender colored tie. Aziraphale looked up from his post between Gabriel's legs to the doorway, face still glistening with the other angel's juices. He smiles brightly at him and it's the most obscenely gorgeous thing that Crowley's ever seen.

"Hello, Crowley dear." He said as though he _hadn't_ just had his tongue so far up Gabriel's cunt that the angel was wailing. _Satan_ that was hot.

"Have mercy on the poor guy, angel. I can hear him caterwauling all the way down the hall." Crowley tutted, strutting forward and taking Gabriel's face into his hands lovingly.

"Oh, he's taking it just fine. Isn't that right darling?" Aziraphale purred, moving his thumb to circle Gabriel's clit. The archangel's hips buck in pleasure.

"Ohhhh Azi-Aziraphale please..." Gabriel begged senselessly enough to make Crowley wonder how long they'd been at it.

"You're being careless." Crowley complained, folding his glasses and miracling them safely to the nightstand. "More like this, angel."

Crowley rakes his nails up Gabriel's chest, reveling in the way the archangel struggled against his bonds, back arching off the bed. He stops his trail to lazily roll both of his nipples between his fingers, earning him a sharp gasp as the buds hardened to tiny peaks under his touch. Aziraphale was watching him intently, pupils blown so wide that his blue-green eyes almost looked black, mouth slack with desire. His hand had slowed to a teasing pace, so thoroughly engrossed in the show. Crowley kissed Gabriel upside-down, nipping at his bottom lip, swallowing down the little sounds he made as the demon continued to toy with his nipples. Once he's certain he's kissed the angel breathless, he pulls back, eyes connecting with Aziraphale's with a burning intensity.

"Well don't _stop_, angel." Crowley says, gesturing towards the space between Gabriel's legs.

"Oh!" Aziraphale exclaims, looking rather like someone who'd been caught doing something he shouldn't. "Right, yes."

The Principality settles back in his previous position, cheek resting on Gabriel's thigh while he fucked him with his tongue. Crowley watches Gabriel's eyes widen, head falling back in pleasure as Aziraphale worked him over, thighs trembling, heels digging into the bed. Crowley moves his hands up to run long nails through Gabriel's hair, squatting down to whisper in his ear.

"He's pretty good at that, innit he?" He says huskily, lips grazing the spot right behind the angel's ear. Gabriel just nods, unable to communicate any other way. "An absolute glutton that one. Hell would be proud."

"Excuse me?" Aziraphale piped up from between Gabriel's legs, glaring pointedly at the demon. Gabriel whined desperately, hips lifting from the bed involuntarily.

"Don't stop!" Crowley snapped, and Aziraphale went back to his task, though he kept his eyes fixed to Crowley's as he worked. If he'd given himself the right equipment for it, the sight may have been enough to make him come then and there.

Crowley kissed his way across the golden freckles that patterned Gabriel's neck and shoulders, biting softly, dragging fangs across soft skin, careful not to break it. The Archangel moaned louder, turning his head to allow the demon better access. Crowley smiled. He didn't know how he'd been lucky enough to have not one, but _two_ angels at his disposal, but he wasn't going to take that for granted.

"That's it love." Crowley cooed. "Let us take care of you. You're doing so well."

"C-Crowley.....more."

The demon's eyes flick upward, meeting Aziraphale's, giving him a nod. The Principality speeds up, tongue swirling around his clit, fingers buried inside him, pressing firmly against the spot that made Gabriel practically howl with ecstasy every time. Crowley's hands return to Gabriel's nipples, pinching harder than before. He continues his assault on his neck, biting just hard enough to leave little bruises in the previously unmarred skin. He's close. Crowley can tell from the way he's wailing. The way he struggles with the tie around his wrists, the way his back arches up off the bed. With a cry, he comes, head leaned back on Crowley's shoulder, soaking the bedsheets below them.

"Absolutely breathtaking." He praised, pressing a kiss to top of his head.

Below him, Aziraphale had begun kissing a trail from thigh to stomach, eyes closed in contentment, a small smile spread across his features. He laid his head down on Gabriel's stomach, looking up at them both with loving eyes.

"How nice of you to join us, my dear. I had hoped you might." He said, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

"S'at why you left the shop open? Naughty angel." Crowley teased. "It could have been anyone that walked in here."

"Yeah, but it wasn't" Gabriel added, turning his head to kiss him.

"Oh, are you in on this too, now? Honestly, you two are more wicked than I am."

"I don't know if i'd go that far. You can be quite dastardly when you choose to be."

"Sure I can. I'd be out of a job if I couldn't. Now strip."

Aziraphale does as he's told, taking his sweet time with the buttons of his vest, then his shirt, exposing his soft skin bit by bit in a deliciously tempting display. He was always so careful in everything he did. So methodical. It was hypnotic, almost. Crowley longed to touch him. To reach out and run his fingers over every roll and dimple, every golden stretch mark, every spot he knew would make the angel shiver and bite his lip. When he finished, he sat back on his heels, looking at Crowley as though awaiting instruction, and _fuck_ was that hot. Crowley licked his lips, unsure for a moment of what to do. He's not usually the one in charge of their sessions, but he had a few ideas.

"Get on with it then, angel." Crowley commanded, reaching down Gabriel's body to his over-sensitive folds, spreading him open. "Don't let me interrupt your plans."

Aziraphale crawled forward, settling himself between Gabriel's legs. Crowley watched with bated breath as Aziraphale lined himself up, cock brushing his fingers as he slides in, almost teasingly slow. Gabriel gasped between them, violet eyes sliding shut as the smaller angel pushed into him. When he finally bottoms out, Crowley moves his fingers to trace feather light circles over Gabriel's clit. Gabriel spasms under his touch, tightening around Aziraphale, drawing a strangled groan from the Principality. He already looked as though he might spend, and they've only just begun.

"Crowley, Gabriel, my loves, this will _not_ last very long if you continue." He panted, head bowed in concentration.

"Really angel?" Crowley tutted, but he moved his hand anyway, leaving a wet trail across his stomach. "You're no better than a kid on prom night."

"Hush, you." Aziraphale hissed, rolling his hips, plunging himself deeper into Gabriel. The Archangel sighed in pleasure, pushing back onto Aziraphale's cock.

Aziraphale keeps his thrusts slow and deep, wringing quiet, contented moans from Gabriel's bruised lips. It's slow and sensual and positively indulgent. Crowley could work with that. He unties Gabriel's hands, discarding the silk tie onto the floor, and slides onto the bed on his knees. Wordlessly, he lifted Gabriel's upper body into his lap, enjoying the feeling of Aziraphale driving the angel back into him with his thrusts. He runs a hand through his hair, stroking through it lovingly, and is rewarded with one of Gabriel's newly-freed hands clasping his own. Every time Aziraphale thrusts into him, he squeezes Crowley's hand just a bit and it's enough to make the demon blush.

"Do you like that, darling?" Crowley asked. "You like it when Aziraphale fucks you nice and deep? I know I do. He's a bloody marvel isn't he?"

"Mhmm" Gabriel nodded, eyes opening just a sliver to look up at Crowley, a dopey, lovesick, pleasured grin on his face. "He's so good, Crowley."

"Oh, but I've only just begun, dear." Aziraphale said with a grin, slamming into him harder for emphasis.

Gabriel's moans turned to yelps as Aziraphale's thrusts picked up speed, going from steady lovemaking to a wild fuck, his pretty nails digging into Gabriel's hips and leaving deep bruises in their wake. It was stunning. Crowley bit his lip as he held Gabriel steady in his lap, watching the show. It was one thing to be the one Aziraphale was fucking, but an entirely new experience to watch him so carefully take apart someone _else_. Crowley felt his heart swell.

"Go- Sa- _Fuck's_ sake, you're both so bloody beautiful." He whispers, squeezing Gabriel's hand just a little tighter to emphasize his point.

"You- oh... You could always join us?" Gabriel managed, looking up at him expectantly.

"Oh yes, dear." Aziraphale moaned in approval.

"H-how?" Crowley stuttered out.

Aziraphale pulled Gabriel's hips toward him so that he can spread his legs and arch his back without slipping out of him, presenting his arse in an alluring display that made Crowley's mouth go dry. In his lap, Gabriel closed his eyes and opened his mouth, offering that to him as well, and Crowley thinks he might just discorporate on the spot.

"Seems like you've got a few options." Aziraphale said, eyes heavy lidded. "Though, I would appreciate it if you'd make your choice quickly."

But how could he make a choice like that? God's most glorious angels offering themselves up to him in the most erotic scene he's ever seen. Crowley licks his lips in anticipation, considering his options.

"Better keep your arse up, angel. I plan to make a messssss of it." He hissed, slinking out from under Gabriel and crawling across the mattress, undoing his fly on the way. 

Gabriel closed his mouth and propped his head up on his arms, watching him carefully. Rather than watch him strip, he snaps his fingers and magics his clothes away. Crowley looks between them, surprised for just a moment, but not unhappy with the development. He doesn't want to bother prolonging the interruption by fingering Aziraphale open the old fashioned way, so with a wave of his hand, he miracles him wet and open. Aziraphale whines at the sensation. He lines himself up and shoves in without further ado, savoring the way he yelped.

"Oooh Crowley I- mmmmm..." Aziraphale sounded absolutely wrecked already, completely lost in sensation.

Crowley thrusts forward experimentally, driving Aziraphale forward into Gabriel, drawing a choked moan from both beings. Oh he had _definitely_ made the right decision. He wraps a hand around one of Aziraphale's shoulders, the other on his hip, bracing himself for what he's about to do. Crowley pulls out almost all the way, and then slams into him, setting a punishing pace, their bodies moving in harmony. It wasn't exactly the easiest position, but damn it just felt so good to be close to them both in this way. Aziraphale was tight and positively velvety around him, and the way Gabriel moaned with each thrust of their hips was driving him dangerously close. He let it. Crowley surrenders himself to sensation, hips snapping wildly, drawing desperate, needy moans from the angels beneath him. Miraculously, Aziraphale spends before him, completely overwhelmed and with a strangled cry, filling Gabriel and tightening deliciously around Crowley and- Oh _Satan_ that did it for him. Crowley comes with a growl, shoving in deep as he can go, sinking his teeth into Aziraphale's shoulder the way he knew the angel loved.

It was, quite frankly, the best sex he'd ever had. He feels deliciously drained, and his limbs are noodly and limp as he collapses onto the mattress with a soft smile. Crowley cracks an eye open, looking at his angels, lying spent and content beside him, and is positively overcome with affection. With a wave of his hand, the mess is gone, and he rolls onto his side, gathering Aziraphale into his arms, stretching across him to grasp Gabriel's hand.

"I don't deserve you two." He says breathlessly, only half-serious.

"Oh hush. You're not allowed to ruin this by being self-deprecating." Aziraphale admonishes.

"Oh _I'm_ not allowed to be self-deprecating? You should hear some of the things this one says." Crowley emphasizes his point by poking Gabriel in the ribs, causing him to jolt just a bit.

"Hey, don't drag me into this!"

"What am I to do with you?" Aziraphale sighs, wrapping an arm around both of their shoulders. "You're _both_ utterly deplorable."

"I dunno. I quite liked this. You could do this again." Crowley offers, looking at him with a suggestive smirk.

"It was nice, wasn't it? Gabriel does have good ideas from time to time."

"What do you mean 'from time to time'? My ideas are great, you just don't appreciate them enough."

"You stuck a fork in the toaster yesterday, Gabe." Crowley adds. "But as far as your ideas go, this is the best."

"Thank you."

"Speaking of ideas, I was thinking we try that new Brazilian Steakhouse for dinner this evening. I hear it's got quite the romantic atmosphere." Aziraphale pipes up.

"Oh, angel, you are _sorely_ mistaken if you think I'm letting you out of this bed." Crowley says darkly, moving so that he's straddling his hips.

"Food is overrated." Gabriel agrees, rolling onto his side to kiss down Aziraphale's neck, lips ghosting over the purpling bite marks there.

"O-oh. Well uhm. When you put it that way, I suppose dinner could wait- Oh don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it, angel..."


End file.
